Page 169 of Burn Bright
So I hand back his phone. “Thanks,” I say sincerely. “That’s been the best birthday present so far.” I don’t tell him it’s the first one I’ve received since I was sixteen. Aunt Helena always calls to wish me a happy birthday—like she did this morning—but I wouldn’t consider a fifteen-minute chat a gift, even if I really appreciate how she always remembers to ring me on October 13th. A couple years ago, I really needed her call. It’d been a bright spot on a lousy seventeen.
“You think this was your birthday present?” He scrunches his face at me, slipping his phone in his butt pocket.
I’d asked Ben if he had any videos stashed of his cockatiels. Little did I know, he had enough to make my whole night. “I asked and I received,” I shrug, straightening up and shifting away from the liquor bottles behind us. My cheeks burn at the way he’s watching me move to the beer taps. He’s checking meout, and I’m seriously giddy over it. “Why? Did you get me something?”
“Maybe.” His teasing smile is going to be the death of me.Good riddance, Harriet.The girl who died over a fuckingsmile.Ugh.
“Maybe.” I crinkle my nose at him. “Whatcha got in your pocket for me, Cobalt boy? Jolly Ranchers?”
“Generally, gifts are supposed to be special. Not something you carry on the regular.”
“Okay.” I hoist myself up on the bar, sitting beside the taps. Only two old dudes are here drinking Guinness and chitchatting quietly at a booth.Ghostbustersplays on the projector screen. Volume low. I have my back to the movie. “You only came here with a water bottle. So ithasto be in your pocket.”
“Great assessment, Fisher,” Ben smiles while nearing. “It is in my pocket.”
He got me something.I grip the bar on either side of me. I swear, I’m two seconds from swinging my legs and falling backward like a fool. “You going to show me?”
Ben digs in his jeans, unearthing a square box wrapped with pink cupcake-patterned paper. It’s not a ring box, but maybe the size for a bracelet or an iron-on patch to add to my backpack.
“Tell me you didn’t buy wrapping paper.” I take the gift.
“I didn’t break the bank,” he assures.
“You better not have.” We’re obviously not racking in any big tips here. “Your financial situation is already dire. How are you going to buy toilet paper for this primitive excursion?”
“I was probably going to use leaves anyway.” His smile is too cute for the End of the World.
“Funny. You know what’s funnier—if you get poison ivy, I won’t be there to lotion your wounds.”
“Straight to the heart.” He sounds less jokey and sadder.
I’m fucking up this gift receiving, tanking the upbeat mood already, but in my defense, I have very little experience in opening gifts. “You picked this out?” I point to the cupcake paper.
“From Audrey’s stash. My sister let me raid her stationary.” It must’ve been on a Wednesday when he visits her in Philly.
I peel the paper. Unveiling a white box. My pulse speeds so fast, I need to pause to intake some breath. “I love it,” I banter, but I think the truth is already out: I am enamored.
His smile widens. “All it takes is a box to make Harriet Fisher happy. Who knew?”
All it takes is you.
“I’m easy,” I say. “Notlike an easy lay.” My defensive glare fizzles out in seconds with him.
“I know what you meant,” he says softly. “Open it.”
So I lift the lid, and my heart pitter-patters in a brand new drumbeat. I take out a really pretty beaded choker. Multi-colored. Square and round beads threaded together. “You made this?” I ask quietly.
“With a slight assist from Audrey since I wanted it to actually look good, butyeah. I made it.”
I inspect the beads. A smiley face, a glittery purple one, yellow, blue, a pink heart, and then white letters, B-E-L…O-I-S-E-A-U.
It spells outbeautiful bird.
Our conversation from two weeks ago in the campus library races back to me. “It’s…” I look up at him, hiding none of the overpowering emotion on my face. I don’t think I can.
His eyes redden like he feels the brunt force of my appreciation, affection, all the gooey sentiments I never thought I’d experience to this degree.
I manage to get out, “It’s the best gift I’ve ever been given.” I snap off my old dingy choker so I can wear the new one right now. “Thanks, Ben.”
